A Kelpie of Rowan

Chapter 31

By the time they have removed all the cow-wheat flowers from the soil, the sky above them is blue-gray. Rowan knows that if she could see the horizon through the trees, she would see the blazing colours of a sunset. Darach steps toward Rowan, causing her to turn. Darach shoves an armful of purple flowers towards Rowan.

"Make sure to burn these when you get the chance."

Rowan nods. "I will."

"You'd better head back now, before it gets completely dark."

Rowan nods again and steps away from Darach, turning towards her house. Then she turns back. "Should I come back again tomorrow afternoon?"

Darach beams. "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow."

Rowan starts walking, careful to keep the flowers in her arms from spilling over onto the ground. She certainly doesn't need a path, especially one made of dangerous flowers. One slips over the edge of her arms and she carefully shifts the pile to one arm, using the other to pick the flower up off the ground. She slips it into her pocket and redistributes the pile once again. The divide between the forest and the open space around her house seems to affect her less this time, perhaps due to the bundle of dying flowers in her arms. Rowan pushes the gate open with her foot, having used an elbow to lift the latch.

The burn of crossing the iron boundary is stronger now, but only just. Rowan dumps the pile of flowers into the firepit along the side of the house. they barely use it, but it's the best place to use her fire. Besides, then her mother won't get worried about the fact that Rowan is setting things on fire. She nudges the flowers away from the edges of the firepit and piles them up in the center. She pauses, looking down. How, exactly is she going to actually set them on fire? She has figured out to stop the flames from shooting out of her hands, but how does she summon the flame?

Maybe she should try thinking of fire? She closes her eyes, letting herself see the dancing movements of flames. It's merry, flickering from red to orange to gold, with flickers of blue at the very base. She begins to hear a crackling sound. It isn't very loud, but it's right in front of her. She opens her eyes and grins. Sitting in the palm of her hands is a small ball of fire. It is bright, a warm white color. The tips of the individual flames are orange-yellow. The fire waves at her, dancing in her palm. It doesn't burn her, it just sits there, warming her skin. Rowan lowers her hand towards the pile of cow-wheat flowers, the flame crackling in her palm.

It greedily reaches towards the flowers and Rowan obliges the flame, letting it lick at the topmost one. It catches quickly, cascading down the pile until each one is aflame. She wrinkles her nose at the smell. It isn't pleasant, it just smells like burnt things. She grabs a log from the side of the house and brings it over to the firepit, heaving it into the center. The fire greedily grabs onto the wood, spreading over its surface. There is a sound from behind Rowan and she turns to see her grandmother coming around the side of the house.

"What are you doing, Rowanberry?"

Rowan motions towards the fire. "Sitting at the firepit to think?"

Aisling raises an eyebrow. "That doesn't explain why you're burning flowers."

Rowan's mouth drops open. "Gran?! How could you tell?"

"Because nothing else you'd be burning could smell like that, and we don't have any leaves around for you to use. So tell me, why are you burning flowers?"

Rowan shrugs and slips her hand into her pocket. She can feel something soft against her fingertip and she frowns. She grabs onto it and pulls lightly. Another flower emerges from her pocket, causing her to frown. How did it get there? Then she shakes her head, wanting to laugh at herself. It's the one that fell in the woods. She hands the flower to her grandmother.

"I was told to burn them."

Aisling frowns down at the purple flower. "Who told you to burn them?"

"Darach. She's a dryad. She told me they were dangerous."

Aisling looks up from the flower, startled. "Dangerous? How?"

"She didn't explain, she just said that I shouldn't let anyone see them, to destroy them."

"Hmmm." Rowan's grandmother turns the flower over in her hands. "What type of flower is this?"

"It's a field cow-wheat flower. They're pretty rare, and they definitely shouldn't have been growing in the forest."

"Where did you find them?"

Rowan kneels down to touch the soil of the yard. A flower easily springs to life and Rowan plucks it, wincing at the pain. She shows her grandmother the flower before she tosses it into the fire. It's swallowed by the flames, sending up a fresh burst of bitter smoke. Aisling frowns at Rowan.

"Since when have you been able to make plants grow by touching the ground?"

"Since earlier today. I can make fire, too."

Rowan summons a fresh spark to her palm, letting her grandmother see it before she sends it away again. Aisling frowns. "Rowan, why were you talking to a dryad?"

"She's going to help me control my magic, at least the magic that lets me grow things."

"Why would she do that?"

Rowan shrugs. "I saved her tree. The Seelie Lord . . . he set it on fire and I healed it."

Aisling blinks at this, but she doesn't say anything. She just looks at the dancing flame, watching it consume the wood and the last of the flowers.
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What do you think of this? What will happen next? Tell me your thoughts!

Okay, I need to apologize. Apparently this was saved as a draft and not published, even though I distinctly remember pressing publish. Sorry!

Happy reading and I'll see you next chapter!

~Goddess of Fate, signing out.